"Come here," Merlin murmured. He was sitting in the middle of the bed with outstretched arms, tired and worried as he watched Arthur pace his—their—chambers. When Arthur shook his head and stomped to the window in some sort of defiance, Merlin sighed. "Arthur, please."

Arthur turned away from the castle window with hard eyes, but his expression softened upon seeing Merlin's anxiety. "I can't—" he said, and then stopped, trying to find the right words. "I don't like being not to be able to do anything."

"I know," Merlin answered from the bed. He kept his arms out, beckoning Arthur into them. "I know."

Arthur started toward him, but then hesitated and span back. He drew the curtains shut, blocking out the light of the day, and then went to the bed, clambering gracelessly onto it. Merlin caught his face, stroked the pad of his thumb over his cheek, and smiled sadly.

"You tried."

"He wouldn't listen," Arthur said, feeling the need to explain himself a thousand times over. "Merlin, I did, I tried—"

"Shh. I know. Come on."

Merlin kissed his forehead and drew Arthur down to settle. He lay with his head in Merlin's lap, fidgety with the knowledge that he was not able to do anything except stand and watch and be comforted by Merlin. Loving, idiotic, annoyingly compassionate Merlin, who understood when Arthur didn't—when Arthur couldn't, who understood that he could do nothing as a prince without the power his father had, not until he sat upon the throne himself. He could do nothing to stop the slaughter of the Druids in the middle of the courtyard square, nothing as one by one they were beheaded and then were burnt in two pieces. He could do nothing to stop the Druid family in the courtyard watching as a relative was killed, knowing that they were next, that they could not be saved.

Merlin ran his hands through Arthur's hair, trying to keep him as close as possible, to let him know that he was there, that he knew, and that he understood.

"You should not be comforting me," Arthur said to the ceiling, but he made no effort to move.

"You are."

"Liar," Arthur accused. He sat up, still practically on Merlin's lap and shifted slightly to lock eyes with him. "Liar," he said again.

Merlin was unsuccessful in hiding his own feelings to save Arthur's. His face white with fear, and he probably would have curled into himself if it wasn't for the man beside him. Arthur knew. Merlin wanted to protect him, to comfort him, when Merlin was the one needing the protection and the comfort and the reassurances.

"One day," Arthur began, tilting Merlin's head up with a finger under his chin, "I promise, we'll do more for them. We'll save everyone. You and I, together. Your people, your kin... None of you, I swear it, you won't have to live in fear." He was determined. Sure of himself. He loved his father, but he would not turn into the same tyrant. He would be fair, he would be just, and he would love and protect Camelot and everybody who lived there. His people, his knights... Merlin. Always Merlin.

Merlin tried for a scoff, but it came out as a strangled sound. "I don't live in fear."

"Liar," Arthur said again. "Thankfully you're a better sorcerer than you are liar."

Merlin chuckled weakly and closed his eyes, doing his best to replace the imagery of the Druids being slain with the serene image of Arthur before him. "Yes, thank the gods."

And then, just for a moment, his heart wasn't so cold, and the world's lining was not so black. The future he would create with Arthur would be brighter than today. They would fight. They would dare. They would live.

Merlin sprinted to Arthur's limp body. He slid against the ground and pulled Arthur onto his lap.

"It's… It's alright, Merlin," Arthur weakly cooed. He raised his arm to caress Merlin's face. Merlin grabbed onto Arthur tightly, stroking his hair, his head gently resting on Merlin's thighs. Merlin was trying to tap into his magic, trying to find away to heal Arthur, but he was getting nothing. His concentration was broken by Arthur's weak voice.

"We did it, you know... We... We..." Arthur's hand fell but his eyes remained pinned to Merlin's face. Unmoving. Dead.

"No, no please! Not yet. Not—" Merlin screamed. He held tightly onto Arthur's head. It was warm but cold, the rigor of life siphoned by the whimsical sword of the afterlife. The high pitched ring of the monitor rang in his ears. Arthur's eyes were still open, pupils dilated, casting a dead stare deep into Merlin's own eyes. Merlin leaned his head in and kissed Arthur's forehead. He kissed from his forehead to his cheeks and then burred his head in Arthur's neck. He could feel Arthur's light stubble against his neck, and was flooded with memories of waking up next to him and cuddling against him, their cheeks rubbing against one another. The harsh scratching, it had made Merlin so hard in those early mornings.

"No, No, I can't let you go," Merlin cried softly. "I can't..." Merlin couldn't. Arthur was all he wanted, all he needed. He couldn't lose him again; lose everything – the only thing – he was trying to protect. Images of will flooded his mind but he quickly dismissed them. Will was great, but in the end, it was Arthur – only ever Arthur – that he wanted.

Merlin pulled his head back and looked down at his beautiful man. He lifted his head to the sky and sobbed quietly, his mind on the brink of giving up.

Arthur felt himself drifting into the darkness. It was getting harder to think, and no matter how hard he wanted to, he couldn't take a breath. It was madness, pure madness, this insanity running full speed against his senses. He knew he was dying, but he wasn't ready—

I'm so sorry, Arthur.

Those words rang in Arthur's conscience and pushed him deeper into the black. Merlin's voice was the push he needed to fall deeper and farther than any man would willingly go. All of a sudden, it didn't hurt so bad, not being able to breathe, and the darkness wasn't as cold and mad as it once was. Merlin's voice was guiding him, guiding him towards the chaotic infrastructure of whatever was after, but more importantly, towards the light.

He was on the brink of fading out. Merlin's voice was fading, becoming harder to hear. It was here, on the ledge of the unknown, where the final syllables of the man he loved reached him in full volume, deep in the void.

I'll always love you. Always.

"And I, you," was Arthur's final thought, before finally letting himself plummet into the abyss; the spark of life finally leaving his fragile body.

Merlin clutched onto his lover as he bled out onto the broken tile floor. The aura of life quickly faded, but Merlin didn't let go. His tears dripped onto the man he loved.

"It takes more than a... a paper cut to kill me," Richard gritted out through his teeth.

Merlin turned in horror to see him rise from the ground, the wound Arthur had dealt him was still open and black tar was pouring from it. Richard laughed and he stood fully upright, his eyes black with darkness, he was pushing the magic of Excalibur back. He extended both of his hands and a small black orb grew inside them.

"I am going.. to fucking kill you!" Richard screamed.

The black orb exploded into black threads of magic. Quickly they found their way to Merlin, circling him and trapping him. Richard's arms were extended outwards. His hands were a dark purple. He rapidly brought his hands together and the darkness consumed Merlin.

"Burn!" Richard cried, "Burn!"

Not yet.

Merlin felt magic course through him, magic stronger than anything he had ever felt before. He felt it pulling him from Richard's magic, pulling further and further into the light.

He can't kill us yet, can he?

"A-Arthur?"

With me. Merlin! With me! I don't have much time.

The black tide of sin broke from Merlin's body. Merlin could feel Arthur inside of him, his body being taken over by his spirit. Merlin's feet began to run, dexterity that wasn't his own traveled through his legs, moving him at breakneck speeds. Richard brought his hands up again, launching black bullets at Merlin.

Like this!

Arthur twisted Merlin's body mid run, elegantly dodging each and every orb Richard launched at them. Arthur pulled Merlin's hand down and together, they picked up Excalibur from Arthur's limp body. Richard continued his assault, rapidly firing black orbs from both his hands. Merlin and Arthur raced towards him, souls united in step.

"Gotcha!"

Merlin felt a sharp sting on his back as an orb had ricocheted off a wall and had hit him. He took a few staggered steps but he felt Arthur inside of him.

Not yet Merlin, come on! Don't let up now!

Merlin was in a full speed run again, leaping, dancing, twisting around Richard's barrage of unholy energy. Merlin was only a few meters from Richard now.

Together! Merlin!

Arthur and Merlin's spirits were in sync, moving fluidly together, synergistic, perfect. Together, they lifted their hands high, Excalibur in full mast. Richard could see now. On the brink of the end he could see why he had lost. Time had seemed to stop for him. Merlin was in front of him, body shimmering with gold sparks, the echo of Arthur's soul inside of him.

He saw what he lacked.

Merlin felt Arthur's hands with his own, his lips on Merlin's ear.

I love you, too. Arthur whispered into Merlin's mind and, together, they swung.

The blade cut through Richard's head, sliding through his body, splitting him in two. The light from the blade eclipsing the dark energy that poured from him. Merlin stepped back and watched as the light began to engulf Richard, his body disintegrating in front of his eyes, Richard's screams reverberating through the chapel walls. Lights, like the ones that radiated from Hunith and from Kilgharrah did not radiate from Richard, instead the light consumed him, and purged him of darkness, until his body was no more.

It was satisfying, it was wonderful, it was liberating. Merlin could feel the souls of those that were lost finally at rest, finally able to move on. Merlin's eyes turned back to Arthur's body. Lifeless, an eternal gaze imprinted on the sky. He staggered over to Arthur's body and fell on his knees. A sharp pain rang through his thighs as his kneecaps made contact with the first ground. He reached his hand out and gently stroked a blond lock away from Arthur's eyes.

I have to go now.

Merlin turned around and saw Arthur; his spirit, an afterimage of his former self, was standing only feet from him. Merlin willed himself onto his feet and clumsily took a few steps until he was only inches from the transparent image.

Arthur's spirit lifted a hand and gently pressed it to Merlin's cheek, catching a tear.

This isn't the end.

"But Arthur I—"

Live your life Merlin. Live it full, for me, for Gwen, for Lance.

"No – Arthur—"

For your mum, for Morgana.

"You can't leave me, please I—"

Live it without regrets, live it without fear.

"ARTHUR! Arthur! I—"

And when it's done, I'll be waiting.

"Arthur! Please! I can't—"

But Arthur was gone.

Gone.

And Merlin was alone, screaming into thin air.

Merlin walked down the steep steps of the chapel. The color had returned to the world. People were going about their business in the streets, talking, laughing, and loving. Merlin had stopped walking. His eyes quickly looked over all of the lives he had saved, over all of the people who could wake up tomorrow and be able to live, truly live.

Merlin sat down on the bottom step. He didn't cry. He couldn't. One of the suns was setting in the distance. Its bright yellow light became orange and then red in layers against the blue sky.

He could hear Arthur's voice in his head, asking him why the sky changed colors like that.

He could feel Arthur's head on his shoulder, his hand on his back, subconsciously rubbing circles in his shirt.

He could taste Arthur on his lips, the kiss that they hadn't shared, after Merlin had answered him, showing off as much of his intelligence as he could, being sure to explain how light had width and its width determined its color.

Merlin stood up, pulling himself from that final step. He turned around, the twilight reflecting off the chapel windows. Merlin's hand instinctively scratched the small of his back, where the binding tattoo was deeply imprinted.

Goodbye, Arthur.

Until we're together again.

A few weeks later, Merlin walked up to the door of Nimueh's house where he had been staying. He had decided that the mortal world was not for him, and he was going to live out his days and help reconstruct The Fade, repair the damage that Richard had one. It was solemn, just getting used to the fact that he was alone in the world, destined to live his life out until finally, one day he could be with—

"This isn't the end, you know."

Merlin turned around quickly. A tall man was standing just a few meters from him.

"Richard... Arthur... It's not over."

Merlin looked at him, his eyes wide and mouth open.

"Wh-what?" Merlin asked, dumbfounded.

"Richard is not dead yet, nor is Arthur."

"What are you going on about?" Merlin asked irritated. The other man said nothing. Merlin's hands became fists as he became angry. He quickly folded his arms over his chest. Who was this guy? "Seriously, what are—"

"Just listen!" The man yelled. "There isn't much time!"

Merlin shut up and unfolded his arms.

"In The Underworld, they wait. You must go to them; you must put an end to Richard once and for all, before he comes back."

"Comes back? What? Who are you?"

"I go by many names, but you may call me Castiel." The man turned around. "Make haste, young warlock." And he was gone in a flash, the space he took up leaving no remnants of his presence.

Nimueh opened the door, she poked her head out, confused.

"Merlin, dear, who are you talking to?"

Merlin shook his head and turned to Nimueh.

"What is The Underworld and... and how do I get there?"

Nimueh pursed her lips and ran her fingers through her hair. She looked concerned.

"I don't know how you found out about it, but it's not something to be taken lightly, it is dangerous magic, Merlin." Nimueh let out a deep sigh. Merlin walked up the steps to Nimueh where he rested a hand upon her shoulder.

"Please... I-I need to know." He stole her stare and pleaded his own, casting it deep into her eyes, but she turned away.

"I need... I need Arthur."

Nimueh shook her head before finally returning Merlin's gaze. She could see his conviction, his love, his loyalty, his trust, but most importantly, his magic. No one had ever survived going to The Underworld, but maybe, just maybe, Merlin could.

"Come inside, there is much to say and learn. But I warn you, this will not be easy."

Merlin nodded. Nimueh entered the house, but Merlin stopped right at the line of the door, stunned with memory of seeing Arthur at his own door step for the first time. He thought about how taken aback he had been. He thought about how mean Arthur had been at first. He thought about the first night they shared the same bed. He turned around and looked towards the sky, his eyes no longer hollow as they had been since Arthur's death.

I'm coming for you, Arthur.

I'll be there soon.

to be continued

A/N: Thank you all so much for sticking with me through this crazy adventure of a fanfic. I love all of your comments/reviews and its really what pushed me to complete this fic. I can't wait to see what all of you have to say now that its finally finished!

There is a sequel begin made called The Now: Underworld. In addition I'll be working on two other companion fics called "The Before" and "The After", be sure to put me on your Author subscription list if you loved this fic, this one will be very similar (save for "The Before" is going to be a lot fluffier).